Becoming Bane
by Mister Icarus
Summary: Its Alec's birthday, and after blowing out his birthday candles, he realises he made a wish he very well may regret. How will Alec deal with stepping into Magnus's shoes for a while? Rated T. R&R for free cookies. :D AlecxMagnus
1. Extravaggance

_**So, here's another little Magnus-and-Alec fic. I know the idea is over used, but I've never come across a Mortal Instruments fic like this so I thought I'd give it a go…enjoy!**_

_**Disclaimer: Yes, Cassandra Clare is a zillion times awesomer than me and owns everything I want. Can you stop rubbing it in now?**_

It was happening again.

One of Magnus' ridiculously lavish parties, even if it was just us two.

I sighed heavily as Magnus placed a monstrosity of a cake, complete with rainbow icing and sparkly candles, in front of me with a flourish.

Ignoring my protesting, he half danced around the table to pick up a bright purple camera he had left on the other side and pointed it at me, a small smirk playing on his lips.

"Happy birthday, darling!" I sat there, cringing inwardly as Magnus belted out an enthusiastic rendition of "Happy Birthday" to me, complete with little dance moves. I forced a smile as he skipped around the table and fiddled at a few buttons on the camera.

"Ok, time to blow out your candles!" I glanced up at him for a moment, trying to make my eyes look as pleading as possible, before staring at the cake again in disbelief.

"Please, Magnus, I mean, I really appreciate it and all, but you really didn't have to go to all this glit- I mean, trouble." I dragged my eyes away from the cake's sparkling icing and back to my boyfriend, who had lowered his camera and was raising one perfectly shaped eyebrow.

"I thought you would like glitter. You like _me_," Magnus said, gesturing at his rainbow pants with a wave of his ring-clad hand.

"Yes, well, as much as this might surprise you Magnus, I don't think that cake is quite up to having the same relationship with me that you and I have. However sparkly it may be." I sighed again as I flicked the edge of the ridiculously over decorated cake on the table.

"You know, Alec, its not easy being me."

What? Where did that come out of?

"I mean," Magnus continued, pacing the floor, the camera still held in his hands, "What with my job, and my parties, and my all round general important-ness, I don't have much spare time on my hands."

Oh. So now he was giving me the guilt trip.

"I mean, I have _all_ the important stuff to do, looking amazing stylish at the same time, and then I go and throw you a little surprise party with just you and me, and you go and show me your thanks by getting all…." He paused for a moment to search for the right word, "bitchy."

"_Bitchy_? I wasn't being bi-"

"I just thought you would have like it, Alec." He cut me off, looking up at me through mascara-laden lashes. "Do you _not_ like it?"

I gulped. "No, Magnus, I do, it's just…I mean, it nothing special." His cat eyes narrowed and I hastily back-tracked, "No, no, no, what I meant was, it's become, like, normal. All this-" I gestured at the cake and the balloons and the banners and the pile of fancily gift wrapped presents and the huge rainbow cake. "I mean, you do this every time there's a -, well, an opportunity, basically." Magnus picked at his manicured nails thoughtfully.

I waited, holding my breath, hoping I hadn't mortally offended him.

"Well," He looked up, and his expression was amused. I relaxed. "I suppose you're right. Not that parties are necessarily a bad thing, but if it really bothers you maybe I can put the rainbow streamers away for a little while?" Magnus trailed his fingers up my arm as he spoke.

"Yes. Thank you," I replied, grateful the conversation had not ended in a fistfight. Or some horrible scenario involving bitch slapping, which was probably more likely.

"But, first you have to blow out your candles! Make a wish!" Magnus cried, followed by the most girlish squeal I have ever heard made by a man when I obediently obeyed.

After the last sparkler was blown out, Magnus sidled over and nuzzled up to me.

"So, sweetheart, what did you wish for?" He breathed into my ear.

I laughed. "Oh, yeah, I wished that some day I could be a magnificent as you, O Mighty Warlock."

Magnus' grin widened. "Be careful what you wish for, darling."

He raised the camera and pointed it at the both of us.

"…It may come true."

_Flash._

_**A/N – So what thinks ye? All reviews welcome, even if they're little ones correcting grammar mistakes I missed and whatnot…Personally, I'm really enjoying writing this fic, so more to come very soon, my will be done… (:**_

_**Soph ox**_

_**Ps; Thanks to Cultural Infidel, whose (awesome) piece of work, Fortune Cookie – GOREADITNOW! - triggered this idea. *Salutes* **_


	2. Horror

Chappie number three. Enjoy (:

_**Disclaimer: CC owns. I just try to imitate her awesomeness.**_

I sat up from the floor with a jolt.

Sweet baby Jesus, what the fuck had happened? I rubbed my head groaning, and attempted to stand up. Almost immediately, my legs gave, and I fell back onto the floor with an unpleasant _thump_. My head gave a painful throb and I yelped in pain.

…_God. _I must have fallen off the freakin' Eiffel Tower or something.

Forcing all mental images of a struggling newborn Bambi from my mind, I gritted my teeth and grabbed onto the back of the nearby sofa for support. This time I stood up with more ease, but my head was still aching. Sighing, I staggered to the kitchen to get myself a glass of water. As I walked through the doorway of Magnus' kitchen, I blinked in surprise on sight of the glittery decorations, the presents, the ginormous tiered cake, sitting sparkling in the midst of it all. I gazed curiously at them for a moment, my eyes particularly resting on a bright pink banner that delightedly proclaimed _Happy Birthday! _in curly gold writing. A birthday? Whose birthday?

I paused for a moment. _My_ birthday, maybe? But surely I would have remembered?

I shuffled over to the fancily gift wrapped presents and looked at the tags warily.

_Alec,_ it said, predictably enough. I sighed again, playing with the ribbon on the box, one of the strands getting caught in a ring I was wearing-

A ring? What?

I glanced down at my hands in alarm. My hands, I thought, panicking. My hands were not like these hands. My hands were small and pale and bare, not long and tanned and jewel encrusted. Really freaked out now, I looked down at myself for the first time properly. I stifled a scream when I saw what I was wearing. Tight white t-shirt. Excessive amounts of jewellery. Rainbow leather pants.

Oh god. Rainbow leather pants? How the hell did that happen?

Maybe I'd died, I thought miserably, as I half ran to the bathroom. Maybe I'd died and was being punished for all the sins I'd committed. That was the only logical explanation as to why I, Alec Lightwood, would be wearing rainbow leather pants. My shaking hands fumbling on the doorknob, trying desperately to get it open to get a better look at myself. Finally, I managed to throw the door open and fall inside. I flung myself in front of the mirror.

I screamed at my reflection.

Magnus Bane looked back at me, horror and shock etched into every feature on his face. His hands flew to his hair, his lips, his nose, his eyes. Those green gold cat eyes, that mirrored the terror I was feeling. Literally.

My heart pounding in my chest, I tilted my head to the left then the right. The Magnus in the mirror imitated me. I stuck out my tongue. Again, the Magnus in the mirror copied the movement. I whirled away from the mirror in shock – what had happened? I slumped down onto the floor, not knowing what to do. Where was the real Magnus? He couldn't have just disappeared. But where could he be? I bit my lip in worry. He could be lost or hurt or _dead-_

"Hey baby."

My head whipped up and my mouth fell open as I saw myself slumping lazily against the doorframe, casually puffing on a cigarillo, which blew silvery smoke when I-, when _he_ exhaled. I scrambled to my feet to get a better look at the impostor.

He looked exactly like me, it had to be said. Same deep blue eyes, same almost black hair, same dark clothes. This guy's eyes, however, were outlined in kohl, his hair was styled and glossy, his clothes were new and well fitted. I walked towards him tentatively –

"Who are you?" I said, shaking my head in disbelief as the other Alec laughed and absently flicked a cigarillo ash onto the floor.

"Aw, sweetheart, don't you recognise me?" The other Alec said teasingly and his eyes twinkled with a spark that I had never seen in myself, but was definitely familiar, I had to admit. I tilted my head up closer to get as close a look as possible, looking for some sign that this guy was not an exact clone of me. The impostor didn't react to my new proximity, just stood there and smirked as his eyes followed my movements.

I leaned up even closer – there had to be a giveaway sign this guy wasn't an exact copy of me – a scar, a blemish, anything that he had that I didn't. I studied his eyes, his nose, his lips. Unfortunately I didn't get a very good look at his lips before they were crushed shamelessly against mine and were held there for a second before I jumped back in alarm.

I paused and cocked my head at him. Surely not? Surely this was a joke, a dream, anything but this…it wasn't possible!

My eyes said it was. I was in Magnus' body, and there was someone standing in front of me in my body.

"_Magnus_?"

The figure opposite me dropped on eyelid in a single wink.

I spluttered for air, then recovered myself and managed to choke out a reply.

"You know I _hate_ the movie Freaky Friday."

A/N -Who likes it? Who loves it? Who hates it? As I said earlier, I like where this I going so it shall be continued soon! Yay! Thanks for reading, you rock intensely!

Soph ox.


	3. Anxiety

I paced the room anxiously, my hands clenching and unclenching at my sides with the nerves. I glanced across the room to the figure slumped lazily in an armchair.

"Magnus, what the hell are we going to _do_?"

I nearly started screaming when he didn't really reply immediately. He sat there, still puffing on that damn cigarillo, eyeing me with an expression that almost seemed smug. Finally, he took the stupid thing out of his mouth, and answered, twirling it in his fingers.

"What do you mean, darling?" His eyes sparkled as he spoke. I exhaled angrily.

"I mean exactly what I said, Magnus." It felt really weird to be addressing myself using my boyfriend's name. "How am I meant to go home looking like this?"

Magnus sighed and stretched out in the armchair. He was still rolling the cigarillo between his fingers. "Of course you're not going to go home."

"What? But I have to, I have to go back to the Institu-"

"Correction, darling. _I_ have to go back to the Institute. You, on the other hand, get to stay here looking pretty all day." He grinned at me towards the end of his sentence and I scowled, an expression I'm sure looked out of place on Magnus' beautiful face. This was ridiculous – what was Magnus playing at? I had to go back to the Institute, and he had to stay here and do – well, whatever it was he did when he was working.

Magnus sprang to his feet and sauntered towards me, a movement I hoped my body would never have to endure after we'd sorted this ungodly mess out.

"Magnus." I tried to use my newfound height to my advantage and stare him down, to no avail. He ignored my furious scowls and batted his eyelashes at me. I cringed inwardly.

"_Magnus._" I repeated, getting more impatient by the second, "Be serious – fix this mistake, and let me go back, I can't stay here all day, and you know it." Cue steely glares on my part.

He laughed suddenly, the sound making me jump. Dear god, was my laugh really that hoarse? Or was Magnus putting it on?

"Oh my, Alec. Mistake? You think this was a mistake?" I stared blankly at him, waiting for a reply. He didn't. He _wouldn't _have…

"Please tell me, Magnus, that this was some stupid joke of yours and you are going to change me back right now, or I swear on the Angel, I'll…I'll…" My voice trailed off as Magnus started smirking and I knew he wasn't giving in.

"Oh, Alec, sweetheart, you make me laugh sometimes. This was entirely your idea. Didn't you say you wanted to be more like me? Or rather, to quote you exactly, to someday be as magnificent as me?" His eyes glittered as he spoke and I cursed my stupidity. What the hell ad I gotten myself into? And if overly clichéd movies were anything to go by, it wouldn't be an easy thing to fix either. I'd have to jump into a volcano or climb Mount Everest to prove myself or something.

I pressed a palm to my forehead, closing my eyes for a moment. "Look. Magnus. I know you're trying to be funny and all, but this really is taking it too far, can't you just-"

"Can't I just what, Alec?" He had slung himself back into the armchair again, flicking cigarillo ash onto the carpet.

"Change us back?" I pleaded, raking a hand through my hair. I snarled angrily when one of the spikes got caught in a ring I was wearing and I ripped my hand out, a large chunk of black hair coming with it.

"Careful!" Magnus half squealed, running over. He examined my, albeit _his_, hair before tsk-ing in annoyance.

"You know, Alec, just because you're in my body does not give you permission to abuse it. My body's a temple I'll have you know, no matter who's invading it."

I spluttered in annoyance. "Invading it? _Invading it?_ I'm not invading it, you're the one who put me here in the first place!"

Magnus stared at me, his head cocking to one side, a smile dancing on his lips. I grew uncomfortable after a few seconds, what with his just looking at me but not speaking.

"What?" I snapped gruffly. Well, as gruffly as Magnus' velvety voice would allow.

Magnus laughed and took a step towards me. "Nothing, it's just you're so cute when you're angry, even if you are currently, ah, residing in my body." His raised his eyebrows at me playfully and I noticed through my annoyance that the expression didn't look as stupid as I would have thought on my face. Maybe I could learn something form this experience from me after all…

No. I had to stay strong. I\ most definitely did not want to parade around as a sparkly uber gay warlock that rivalled a rainbow for the next god knows how long. I had to give it one last shot to change my boyfriend's mind.

"Look, Magnus, _please._ Change me back. Please." I put a finger under his chin and tilted his head towards mine. Our eyes met. I looked at him from underneath my eyelashes and lowered my voice to almost a whisper. "For me? Please?"

Magnus opened his mouth for a second, then closed it again. Then he grinned – I winced. Not a good sign.

"Well, of course I'll change you back, Alec, sweetheart."

Wait, what? Was I not supposed to spend an eternity in his glorious body as penance for all my evil sweater-monopolizing sins?

"But I thought you said I had to stay here…" I was thoroughly astounded now. Magnus snickered and ran a finger across my chest. I flinched at the gesture – after all, it is a bit weird to get caressed by yourself.

"You _do_ have to stay here. Well, not all the time. What I mean exactly is you do have to experience a day, or two, or three, in the life of Magnus Bane the magnificent." My mouth fell open and I was about to object when a noisy buzzing sounded from the coffee table. My phone. I whipped around and snatched it up, glancing at the caller ID.

_Mom._

Oh shit.


	4. Panic

Okay, sorry for the recent lack of updates, both on this and Public Displays of Rejection. First, my laptop broke. Second, I've been going through a recent patch of writers block. Anyhoo, here it is, chapter 4 

A/N: I don't know if it was obvious or not but in Chapter 1, they were celebrating Alec's 18th birthday. So Alec's closet doors haven't started rattling yet. Just to avoid any confusion. Peace out 

"Crap, crap, crap," I cried, tossing the cell from one hand to the other. What the hell was I supposed to do? Answer it? Ignore it? Let Magnus, alias me, answer it? The latter was completely out of the question. I could only imagine that conversation.

"_Oh, hey, Mom, I'm just at the beauty salon getting my pedicure touched up…Hard day shopping, y'know? What? Gay? Me? Never…"_

While I was in the middle of imagining the said thought, I freaked out completely and in the midst of my panic snapped the phone open. I held the phone up to my ear tentatively, my hands shaking and answered it;

"Hello?"

"Magnus?" I jumped at the sound of the incredulous voice on the other end. It wasn't my mom, but Jace. He must have been using my mom's phone to call me for some reason. I relaxed momentarily before realisation hit me smack in the face. Jace. Shit.

"Magnus? Is that you?" Jace's voice persisted through the other end of the phone.

"Umm, no. I mean yes. I mean, this is an answering machine. Leave a message. BEEEEP." Magnus snorted and I turned my head to look at him. He was standing there, looking unruffled and cool. He cocked an eyebrow at me when our eyes met and I gestured rapidly at the cell in my hand. He pressed his lips together and he shrugged nonchalantly.

_Not my problem,_ he mouthed. I snarled in frustration and shoved the phone against my ear again, just in time to catch the end of Jace's sentence.

"…I'm not stupid. And why do you have Alec's phone anyway?" His tone was suspicious, and rightfully so. Why would the High Warlock of Brooklyn have my phone?

"Emm…he- his phone is broken. _Was_ broken. I fixed it. Obviously." I gulped and waited to see if Jace would buy it.

He didn't. "What, so warlocks do cell phone repairs on the side now?"

I forced myself to laugh airily, Magnus style. "Only on the weekends."

"It's Thursday." I could almost hear Jace's eyebrows disappearing into his hairline.

"Exactly. Byeeee." I snapped the phone shut and threw it down on the sofa. I wheeled round to face Magnus who looked like he was trying very hard not to laugh. I scowled at him. "That was not funny."

His smirk grew. "Of course it wasn't."

My fists balled up at my sides. "This is a very serious situation!"

He nodded solemnly, his eyes suddenly wide and innocent. "I absolutely agree, Alec. Very serious. Mmm, yes."

I gaped at him in disbelief for a moment. Why was he behaving like this? That phone call from Jace could have easily ruined everything, and now Magnus was taking the piss. I couldn't believe it.

I gave it one last shot. "Magnus," I stated, trying to inject some of my impatience with this whole situation into my voice. I was fed up of this, and Magnus needed to realise it, pronto.

"Oh, Alec, I was thinking. Maybe we should switch names. Considering we've switched bodies. It would make it so much easier for everyone involved, don't you think?" He smiled charmingly at me and I could have hit him.

"Magnus. We. Are. Not. Staying. Like. This. Therefore nobody needs to get involved; therefore we do not need to switch names! End of!" I spat the words out through gritted teeth.

Magnus blinked at me for a moment, before his expression became affronted. "Actually, sweetheart, I think you'll find we are, as long as you continue to be so mean and nasty to me. My feelings are utterly crushed." He pouted at me and I had to admit underneath all the anger, it was a fitting expression on my face. Quite cute. Shockingly gay at the same time, but still. Quite cute.

I took a deep breath. "Alright. I know you think this is funny, Magnus, and we've had this conversation already – but I really have to go back to the Institute – _they need me there. _I _have_ to go. Not you in my body._ Me._" I took his hand and squeezed it a bit, trying to soften him up a little.

Magnus rolled his eyes. "Gawd, Alec, you're such a drama queen! Surely a few days as me wouldn't hurt?" He was doing the pouty thing again. I sighed.

"Exactly how many days are a few?"

He avoided eye contact and examined his – _my _grimy nails, a vague look of disgust crossing features. He cleared his throat noisily and muttered something under his breath.

"Pardon?" I frowned, not catching it.

He looked up at me, his face once again the picture of innocence. "Just seven. A week. That's how long the spell lasts."

I brought my hands to my face, groaning. Seven days? What was I going to do for seven days as Magnus Bane? More importantly, how was Magnus going to spend a week as me?

"But, Magnus," I said weakly, peering out from between my long fingers, "I don't know _how_ to be you."

"And that, sweetheart, is our next little adventure," That said, Magnus dropped one eye in a glittering wink and pulled me towards his bathroom.


	5. Injustice

Deep breaths, Alec, deep breaths.

You should not be afraid of cosmetics, I told myself. They're more afraid of you than you are of them. Make them be afraid. Make the lipstick fear you.

I cringed as Magnus sashayed around me, swinging his hips in a manner that would have been quite appealing – I tried not to think _sexy_ – if it had been Magnus's body. But it was _my_ body – so aside from it looking ridiculous, I felt like I had an undiagnosed mental illness for even thinking the word _sexy_ in association with looking at myself.

Don't panic, I told myself again as Magnus leaned towards me, armed with unspeakable amounts of little pots and compacts held in his hands. He dropped them down in a pile on the vanity table and began rooting through them, tossing various pots and behind his as he did. Finally, he dug out a compact of golden powder with a hint of glitter and what looked like a very small black fluffy cushion, round and thick. The words _powder puff_ sprang to mind, and I instantly felt violated for even recognising what a powder puff was. What had happened to me in these last few months? I shuddered.

Magnus grinned at me wickedly and I shrank away from him in the chair he had forced me into. He tutted and muttered, "Don't be such a baby, baby," and began suffocating me with lethal amounts of whatever was in that compact. While piling the golden powder on, he began talking to me.

"Pay attention, you have to be able to do this yourself for the next week. And maybe afterwards if the urge ever strike you," he snickered mischievously, flicking my nose with the dreaded powder puff.

I rolled my eyes, and tried to come up with a Magnus-esque reply. "Don't worry, darling, it won't-" I was cut off as I inhaled a cloud of powder and had a minor coughing fit while Magnus laughed hysterically.

"Oh my god, Alec, you're so _bad_ at being gay. But worry not, my love, we'll make a pro of you yet," Magnus's voice grew softer as he leaned forward to inspect what was most likely perfection. My suspicions were confirmed as he smiled delightedly and clapped his hands together. "Wonderful," he said, reaching for what I had learned was mascara. Or was it eyeliner? They were both black – or occasionally sparkly neon purple - and worn around the eyes so I could never remember. Not that it mattered.

Ten minutes and several painful stabs in the eye later, Magnus whipped up a mirror and showed me my reflection. I sighed and turned it towards me. What I saw was my Magnus staring back at me, minus the usual self-assured smile and confidence.

"So, what do you think darling?"

I glowered at him. "I think I look exactly the same as I did fifteen minutes ago, except now I have two bloodshot eyes."

Magnus tilted my head my head to inspect them. "Yes, well. At least they're very pretty bloodshot eyes. Kate Moss would be jealous."

I stared blankly at him. "Who?"

He sighed exaggeratedly. "Never mind. I'm just going to have to make you a catalogue of all the fashion icons and you can learn them all off and drop them into casual conversation." I was grimacing even as he said it.

"What, so Magnus Bane can't act straight-ish for a week?"

"What, so Alec Lightwood can't act gay for a week?" He shot back smugly, his smirk growing as I freaked out completely.

"Oh my god, Magnus, please don't act really gay, please, oh god, Magnus, _please-_"

He interrupted my frenzied babbling with a lofty wave of his hand. "Stop having a bitch flip, Allie, I wont do anything too extreme. Well, as long as you're nice to me anyway." He winked at me cheekily. "So if you don't behave yourself you'll find a certain Mr Wayland will wake up to a very nasty surprise one night involving body chocolate and fluffy handcuffs." I gulped and Magnus clapped his hands together again. "Now where were we? Oh, yes, wardrobe time!"

I mustered up my most poisonous of glares as Magnus forced me into yet another too tight brightly coloured t-shirt.

"Look, Magnus, wasn't what I was wearing all right? Why do you need so many clothes anyway?" I was still bitter about Magnus threatening to gay-itize me – or rather, what appeared to be me - if I didn't behave myself. He shot me a steely look that reminded me of my mother for some very disturbing reason and threw another shirt at me.

"Strip." I did.

"Put this on." I did.

"Strip."

"Put this on."

"Strip."

"Put this on."

"Strip."

"Put this-"

"Oh for God's sake, Magnus, this is getting ridiculous!" I burst out suddenly, throwing my hands up in frustration. "How much longer is this going to take?" I'd had it up to my back teeth with sparkly t-shirts and leather pants. How the hell did this not seriously mess up Magnus's sanity levels?

"Alec, this is important. Very important. People form an instant opinion of you the very second they first meet you, and I meet new people on a daily basis. I need to make a good impression."

I exhaled irritably. "Yes, all right, but I'm not a new person, so why are you outing me through this?"

Magnus giggled suddenly. "All right, I lied. I just enjoy watching you suffer. I wanted to see how many outfits you could go through before you spontaneously combusted. But, congratulations Alec," He smiled at me impishly, "You lasted quite long. I think this experience is bringing out the inner flamboyant homosexual in you."

I shook my head in exasperation. "Does that mean I can stop changing now?"

"Yes. But, wait, that shirt kind of clashes with the pants…"

"Magnus."

"Sorry." He winked again roguishly and flopped onto the end of his bed. "So, what are we going to do today?"

I ran a hand through my hair. "Well, I – you – have to go back to the Institute and pretend that nothing's wrong. Which mean everything is normal, which means no acting like your usual self," I threw in a stern glare in for good measure.

"Fine." He scowled and I laughed at how much he looked like a three year old about to throw a temper tantrum.

"But first," I said, pulling him off the bed, "It's my turn to play dress up with _you_."

***

"No glitter?"

"No."

"No rainbow?"

"No."

"No glittery rainbows?"

"_No_, Magnus." I sighed. This is what I imagined teaching kindergarten must be like. Endless tantrums and repeating yourself. At least little kids had the excuse of being stupid. Magnus was just being plain annoying.

"All right, you're done. See how painless that was?"

"Too painless," Magnus grumbled, turning to inspect himself in the mirror, "Beauty isn't beauty unless you need an ambulance on standby." He glared at his reflection.

"Hmm. I suppose it'll do. But I can't promise you I won't scented shower gel…"

I grinned. "Deal."

Magnus rolled his eyes and spun around to face me. "So, what now?"

I said the words I had been dreading all afternoon. "Now you go back to the Institute."

A/n: Okay, so I was thinking – should the next few chapters be in Magnus's POV, of what happens back at the old Shadowhunter abode? Give me some feedback people. Appreciate it (:

_**Oh and thanks for reading. XD You rock!**_

_**Soph ox**_


	6. Pretence

A/n: The only Mortal Instruments book I have with me at this moment is City of Glass, so if I get any of the little details of the Institute's layout, etc, wrong, I apologize in advance and feel free to correct me :P Also, I've changed a teeeensy bit of what happened just after Magnus and Alec met for the first time, so don't tell me I got what happens in CoB wrong. I just tailored it a little bit to suit my needs :)

(Magnus POV)

"Alexander Lightwood, where _have_ you been?" A shrill voice screamed out as soon as I walked through the front doors of the Institute. Isabelle Lightwood was standing in front of me, staring me square in the face and brandishing a wooden spoon.

"I was so worried!" She stalked towards me furiously and it was all I could do not to cower or run away. "You were meant to be back hours ago! What kind of walk takes six hours?"

"A long one?" Jace appeared beside Isabelle, casually leaning against the wall. He raised an eyebrow at me and smirked. "So, Alec how's our favourite High Warlock these days?"

Isabelle giggled. "Or, rather, how's _your_ favourite High Warlock these days?"

I was about to throw back a witty comeback when I realised exactly who I was. Or rather, who I appeared to be. I scowled, ignoring Isabelle's remark and hunched over, stuffing my hands in my pockets. "I dunno, he just fixed my cell, it was broken, y'know?"

Isabelle looked sceptical. "You went to a warlock to get your cell fixed?"

"That's what I said. And not just _a_ warlock, the High Warlock of Brooklyn," scoffed Jace.

"Well, I don't know any other warlocks," I muttered, hoping it was true for Alec.

Isabelle eyed me suspiciously and took a few steps towards me, waggling her wooden spoon as she spoke.

"Wait, a second, I thought you said you didn't like him?" She said, eyes narrowed, her waving spoon flicking tomato sauce at me. I wiped the sauce off my shirt, then realised what Izzy had just said.

I actually felt quite offended. "When did I say that?"

Izzy looked like she seriously doubted my sanity as she replied. "When we had just come back from his party thing. Simon got turned into a rat, remember?" She was using that slow voice nurses use when talking to old age pensioners with senile dementia. My scowl darkened.

"Yes, Isabelle, I remember. I just don't remember when I said I didn't like that warlock. Magnus, wasn't it?" I widened my eyes innocently for that extra convincing effect.

"Yeah," said Isabelle thoughtfully, "Anyway, it was right after we left with Jace and Clary, and Clary thought Simon was in her backpack…" She trailed off for a moment, looking somewhat guilty.

"Yes?" I urged, glancing at Jace and he twirled his finger beside the side of his head, the gesture that implied someone was crazy. I wasn't sure if it was aimed at me or Izzy.

"Yes, well, while Jace and Clay were in front of us I asked you something like what did you think of Magnus and you said you didn't like him because he was an over the top attention seeker and his lipstick looked stupid."

What?

"I said his lipstick looked _STUPID_?" I was furious. I couldn't believe Alec would insult me like that. Even if I had only known him for half an hour.

"Geez, Alec, what got into your pants today?" Jace snickered and poked my arm as he walked past. "Since when are you into lipstick?"

It was quite tempting to remind the little brat that I – well, Alec, was a year older than he, and to respect his elders and their strange make up fetishes, but then I remembered if Alec found out I would most likely wake up without testicles. So I kept my mouth shut.

"Shut up, Jace," I snapped instead, quite proud of my acting skills. I wondered if I was blushing, Alec style. He was adorably prone to it.

I turned back to face Isabelle who was now grinning almost insanely at me. "So, Alec, you hungry?"

"Sure," I replied without thinking. She had dragged me half way to the kitchen when it dawned on me. Isabelle. Cooking. Shit.

"Alec, you look tired," She announced as she sat me down at the kitchen table, "How about a healthy portion of-"

Food poisoning? Diarrhoea? Stomach cancer? All of the above for one million dollars?

"- soup. I made it myself," Izzy said delightedly, plonking down a huge bowl of a thick brown-ish red liquid in front of me with a flourish. A little too much of a flourish actually, and a few slimy red lumps sloshed out over the sides. I swallowed.

"Isabelle, what kind of soup is this?" I asked, trying to stir it. I got around half way round the bowel before my spoon got stuck in what felt like a large congealed lump. I yanked it out, and my spoon came free, a large chuck of something green jammed onto the end of it.

Isabelle whirled round. "Vegetable," she informed me, gesturing at the green chunk with her wooden spoon.

"I see," I said, using a tone of mild interest. "And what is _this_ exactly?" I held up my spoon for her to see the jammed on chunk of green shit.

"A zucchini. I think."

"Ah," I nodded sagely, poking it. It felt like of one Chairman Meow's fur balls when I had to clean them up. I suppressed a shudder and pushed the bowl away.

"You know what Isabelle, I am tired, I think I'll just go to bed, thanks for the, eh, -" I glanced at the red gunky mess again, "- soup. 'Night."

I ran out of the kitchen before she could reply and very nearly ran straight smack into Jace.

"Oh, umm, hi," I said, trying to act like Alec and not rip his eyes out with my nails.

"Hey," he said absently, craning his head to look into the kitchen. "Is Isabelle cooking?"

I grimaced. "Yeah. If you can call it cooking."

He looked slightly horrified for a moment, before turning to me. "Fancy a take out?"

"Sure, I guess."

"Great. I call Chinese, we had Indian yesterday."

"Ummm, okay," I said, just going with the flow. And Alec had said they needed him urgently here. For what, deciding which fast food outlet to order from? All in a Shadowhunter's day's work, I supposed.

"Oh, and Jace?" I called after him. He stopped in his tracks and cocked his head towards me slightly.

"Yeah?"

"What the _hell_ is a zucchini?"

_**A/N; Hehe, hope you liked. Not the best chapter, it has to be said, but it'll get better as Magnus gets involved in more important Shadowhunter stuffs and whatnot. And another Alec POV chappie to come soon alsooo. Fanks for reading (:**_

_**Soph ox**_


	7. Annoyance

**A/N - Gawd, this chapter is so freakin late. My most sincere apologies people *guilty face*. Aside from being unbelievably busy, my laptop broke for ages. So sorry again, and I hope this chapter makes up for it somewhat. Review and I promise to update sooner ;) (Not that that would be difficult seeing how long this one took. Yet **_**again**_**, sorry,)**

* * *

Magnus's POV

How did Alec do it?

Three hours and three portions of chow mein later and I was nearing the end of my patience. The TV was blaring, killing my e there were empty cartons of takeout scattered all over the room, oozing gooey sauce onto the carpet, and Jace and Isabelle were bickering endlessly. And about such _pointless_ things. Who had killed the most demons and who uses more hair products.

I sighed and tried to focus my attention on the re-run of Grey's Anatomy that Jace had insisted on watching. Who would've thought Blondie was a hospital drama fan? Not that I was complaining. It was better than sports, or manly action films or some music video featuring bikini clad girls gyrating to bad pop music, all of which the television had featured so far tonight. Another fifteen minutes of relentless noise, and I excused myself to bed. I eased myself off the sofa and dodged a plastic carton leaking takeout remains and was half way down the corridor when I realised I didn't exactly know where I was going. Of course I had been in the Institute before, but never inside Alec's bedroom.

_In my dreams only…_

I paced down the corridor, glancing behind me nervously in case Jace or Izzy heard me making my way unsurely up and down the corridor. That would have been slightly difficult to explain, and they doubted my mental stability enough as it was.

_What do you mean, do I know where my room is? Of course I do, I just felt like wandering up and down the hall for a little while. I need the exercise._

I peaked in a few doors n my down. Most were semi empty and covered in dust so I figured they weren't in use. The next room I came to looked a bit more lived in. If by "lived in" you mean a disco-ball had exploded inside it. This, I assumed from all the sparkles and glitzy paint, was Isabelle's room. Unless Alec is a little more flamboyant than I took him for. I gave the glittery walls one last nod of approval before continuing my search.

I checked a few more rooms, finally coming across a likely suspect. The walls were deep blue – _just like Alec's eyes_, I thought wistfully, with a little twist in my stomach - and the floor consisted of dark brown wooden floorboards. The soles of my uncharacteristically heavy boots – why couldn't Shadowhunters wear Jimmy Choos? - thudded across the floor as I entered, regardless of how lightly I tried to tread. I walked to a desk and chair that stood beneath a small window and sat down.

Suddenly the door flung open, and I jumped up from the chair with a jolt.

Jace stood in the doorway, eyeing me suspiciously. "What are you doing?"

I was hit by the sudden horrifying notion that it might not be Alec's room I was in, Alec's desk I was seated at. I stood up slowly and looked at him. "What do you mean?" I said, thinking it was the safest reply.

His eyes lit up, and he smirked slightly. "What are you doing in my room?"

Shit. I panicked and tried to appear cool externally. "Nothing" I snapped, heading for the door at the same time.

Jace eye's brightened and he smiled that infuriating little grin of his. "Jeez, Alec, if you wanted to sleep in my bed with me you should have told me. I would have plumped the pillows for you."

I could have smacked him. How Alec could even stand, let alone be in love with this insolent little bastard I would never know.

_It's all right_, I told myself, gritting my teeth. _Don't do anything rash. You can shave off his eyebrows when he's sleeping._

That calming thought in mind, I rolled my eyes and shoved him out of the way and continued down the corridor. I heard a low chuckle and the click of a door closing behind me. There were only two more doors left before the corridor ended so I tried them both. The first was a bathroom, the second another bedroom; almost identical to the one Jace had just kicked me out of – same colour walls, same wooden floor – well, what I could see of the floor anyway.

The bed was beneath the window was messy and unmade, the desk opposite it a mountain of books and loose sheets of scrawled writing. There were countless more books and papers strewn across the tousled duvet of the bed, and even more scattered across the floor. I picked up one randomly and skimmed through the pages –

_Chapter Four: A Closer Look into Demon Psychology: The Compound of a Demon's Mentality _

How terribly interesting.

There were more things mixed in with the books – numerous pairs of black tattered jeans (Which confirmed the room was definitely Alec's – did he actually _wear_ those jeans?), a couple of candy bar wrappers, a few CD covers, even the odd grimy sock. I tutted as I looked across the ungodly mess before me. Given, my apartment was prone to a bit of clutter, but at least it was _stylish_ clutter. Not mouldy old jeans and boring textbooks shedding pages everywhere.

Maybe I would do Alec a favour, I thought as I stumbled through the debris on the floor, and redecorate his room for him before the week was out. Incorporate a bit of colour. Lilac, maybe, or fuchsia. A new bedspread and throw pillows to keep it from being drab. Yes, that could so work.

And wouldn't Alec be pleased when he got home.


	8. Sarcasm

I sighed and tapped my manicured fingernails on the windowsill.

Who knew being High Warlock of Brooklyn would be so _boring_?

Since Magnus had left, all I had done was sit around and listen to Downworlders leaving voicemails moaning for help - vampires complaining about indigestion, werewolves complaining about fleas and other warlocks complaining about vampires and werewolves complaining to _them_. Hypocrites.

Really, I thought as I rose from the window and shuffled to the kitchen, life as Magnus was a lot less interesting than I had ever expected. I was sick of this already, and I had only been here a day. Maybe it was because I wasn't working properly. I was just taking messages. Lots and lots of messages.

Hello, you've reached the residence of Magnus Bane, High Warlock of Brooklyn, he's not available this week, can I take a message?

Over and over again, a thousand times. There were scribbled upon scraps of paper all over the place. I felt like I had been tricked into bonded secretarial labour. Was this really all Magnus did all day? Didn't he ever get the chance to blow up buildings, evaporate Downworlder serial killers, that kind of thing? Apparently not. Apparently the only thing Magnus' job required was a lot of phone memory.

Sighing again, I went about making myself a sandwich. I was bored, and boredom made me hungry. If Magnus was anything like me, how the hell did he stay so slim? Ah, Magnus. I felt a little jerk in the pit of my stomach. I missed him quite a lot already. As I piled on the peanut butter and chocolate spread, I wondered what Magnus was doing at that very moment in time. Hopefully nothing involving Jace and makeovers, or hideous refurbishment of the Institute. And by hideous I meant glittery. I pictured the image, and shuddered.

I took my masterpiece of a sandwich – three layers of bread, peanut butter, chocolate spread and a drizzle of golden syrup on top for good measure – and switched the TV on and the voice machine off. Any urgent calls could wait until morning. I flopped onto the couch, grabbing the brightest, sparkliest, most Magnus-y cushion within reach and hugged it to my chest. There was a re-run of Grey's Anatomy that I watched over monstrous bites of my sandwich. Katherine Heigl and junk food. I smiled to myself. Jace would have been proud.

I wondered what Jace was doing now. Probably Clary, a most Magnus like voice snickered in my head. I shuddered at the thought. No, Clary wasn't even at the Institute at the moment, she had gone back to New York for a couple of days to do something. I couldn't remember what exactly – I made a point of not listening to a thing that ginger midget said. So if Clary wasn't there, her pathetic mundie friend wouldn't be there either. It would be just Jace and Izzy. And Magnus. I tensed up at the thought.

I didn't know which was worse, the fact that Magnus was in the Institute or the fact that he wasn't here with me. I hugged the cushion closer to me and sighed.

* * *

I woke up that morning to an irritating scratching noise that came from the bedroom door.

"Oh, go away," I groaned from my comfy fortress of pillows. "Jace, go away. It's too early for training…._Jaaaaaace._" I threw a nearby cushion at the door and the staccato scratching subsided for a moment. Then it returned, more persistent than ever.

"By the Angel," I growled and threw back the canary yellow duvet-

Canary yellow?

_My duvet isn't canary yellow_. I rubbed the soft cotton between my fingers thoughtfully. Then I remembered.

Oh, yes. I'm Magnus these days. Joy unbounded.

Scowling now, I flung open the door to see Chairman Meow sitting there. He gazed at me disdainfully and swiped at my foot with his paws. I stepped over him and headed for the kitchen, the stocky cat trotting after me, meowing reproachfully. I put two slices of bread into the toaster then turned to him.

"What?" I said gruffly, "Are you hungry or something?"

Chairman Meow shot me the dirtiest look I've ever seen on a cat's face. Come to think of it, it was the dirtiest look I'd seen on _anyone's_ face.

"Well, fine then, what do you want?"

I swear I nearly saw him roll his eyes.

Food, maybe? No, actually, I'd prefer a brick for a change. There are fresh ones in the fridge. And perhaps a bit of cement on the side. Idiot.

I yelped out loud. What in the Angel's name had that been me? Was it my imagination or –

I glanced at Chairman Meow. He glowered back and began licking his paws.

_So, Shadowhunter, where's my brick? _

No. That was definitely not me. I gulped and stared at the tiny cat. "Is that you talking to me?"

No. It's the enchanted kettle.

"Hey," I snapped, pointing a finger at him, "There's no need to be sarcastic. It's not my fault I've never communicated telepathically with a cat before. How was I meant to know it was you?"

Chairman Meow arched his back and hissed.

"Well. If you're going to take that attitude, you can forget about me feeding you." My toast popped and I began shovelling peanut butter on it. Chairman Meow jumped onto the kitchen counter and yowled at me woefully.

Fine, I'm sorry. Just feed me. I haven't been fed since yesterday morning.

"Apology accepted," I said and put the slice onto a plate, "Now, seriously, what is it you want? We're all out of bricks I'm afraid."

Chairman Meow flicked his tail, considering. I'll have a sandwich.

I blinked in surprise.

"What kind?" I said, and took a bite of toast.

Same as you had last night. With all the trimmings. He purred at the memory and I grinned in spite of myself.

"Fine. Crusts on or off?"

Off.

"'Kay." I said, and pulled three slices of bread out of the packet with a flourish. I began spreading the peanut butter and chocolate spread, only stopping to eat my own breakfast. By the time I was finished, Chairman Meow was practically foaming at the mouth. I smirked and placed it in his dish on the ground. It was nearly the same size as him. "I'll have to patent this idea."

Yes, he agreed between bites, it's genius.

I sniggered as he struggled to get around a particularly large chunk of peanut butter. "You'd want to be careful though. Eat too much junk food like this, and it might stunt your growth."

I laughed as Chairman Meow spun around and spat, a mouthful of bread spraying from his tiny mouth.

**A/N; Hope you enjoyed **** I tried extra hard to write a long chapter and satisfy your Alec cravings **** Speaking of cravings, now I really want to go make one of those monster sandwiches…even though I hate peanut butter…Anyhoo! Next chapter soon, promise!**


	9. Author's Note

**A/N ; Okay, so maybe it's my computer, but in the last chapter, a lot of what Chairman Meow said was supposed to be in italics, but it didn't all show up on FF, to my extreme annoyance. Urghh. Anyway, I'll try uploading it again, but if it doesn't work, I hope it's clear which parts are Chairman Meow's thoughts/comments, all that shindig. Thanks. (",)**

**Also, sorry for the teaser, but I'm working on ideas for a new chapter now. Would my few readers prefer another Alec chapter or another Magnus one? I've been working for the last two weeks so I haven't had much of a chance to write, or even just sit down and think for that matter. Muchos apologies, and a chapter soon. **

**- Soph (:**


	10. Delight

(Alec POV)

I was woken at the crack of dawn by an irritating nasal ringing.

The doorbell, I groaned, jerking upwards, dazed and blurry eyed. I rubbed my eyelids furiously, trying to wake myself up. Who could be calling so goddamn early?

I stretched and went to swing my legs out of Magnus' wretchedly comfortable bed – too late I realised Chairman Meow was sleeping on my legs, and I tossed him onto the floor in my haste. He twisted in the air and landed with a soft thump, turning to spit at me irately before prowling out of the room.

I mumbled a swift apology at his retreating fluffy back before yanking on my sweater and jeans, the doorbell sounding shrilly in the background again.

"I'm coming, I'm coming," I grumbled, gnashing my teeth as my foot got stuck in the end of my pants. I stalked out to the front door and held the call button.

"Who is it?" I growled, hoping they wouldn't want a face-to-face meeting –Magnus was none too forgiving about panda eyes and early morning hair disasters even _before_ other company was brought into the situation. As gorgeous as I thought Magnus was without the war paint, gawd knows what he'd do to me if I presented him to clients in my current state – bare faced and bleary eyed, my hair no doubt a tangled mess atop my head.

There was a pause as I waited for a reply – finally I heard a low noise that was either a cat dying or a nasty cough.

"Alec?"

My face lit up. "Magnus?"

I could nearly him smirking. "Yeah, baby."

Ignoring the inward cringe and oncoming blush at hearing the words said in my voice, I hurled myself down the stairs of Magnus' rickety apartment block, the worn wood groaning beneath my hurried footsteps. My face lit up at the sight of myself standing at the bottom, hands outstretched, an unusual gesture for Magnus.

I walked over to him, grinning, and wrapped my arms around his waist. It was weird to be hugging myself but it was the familiar mischievous glint in his eyes – that I usually only saw in a certain pair of cat slit ones - that drew me towards him. I curled my fingers into the back of his sweater, sighing against his hair.

"I've missed you." I murmured, silently noting how tall I was. Or rather, how tall Magnus was. Did he tower over everyone like this?

"Me, or your body do you mean?" He replied softly, a hint of amusement touching his voice.

I laughed and looked down at him. "Both, if I'm brutally honest. But you more." I kissed his cheek, my lips brushing against the slightly raised skin, the scars resulting of my Shadowhunting years.

His reached around and brought my hands back to my sides, linking our mismatched fingers together. Caramel and porcelain, intertwined. "So, do I get to enter the magnificent abode, or are we going to stand here all day?"

I shook my head no and led him inside, our hands still clutched tightly together. We reached the apartment door, and Magnus opened the door for me, waving me in first, a small smile gracing his features. I walked towards the couch and slumped onto it, Magnus sliding down beside me.

"So, what have you up to lately?" He brushed a strand of his hair off his face while he spoke. I reached over, and tucked it behind his ear, rubbing the skin below it with the side of my thumb. Magnus smiled again.

"Nothing much, I guess. Just taking messages…Relaxing…" I tried to inject just a teensy bit of enthusiasm into my voice. So he didn't get the completely irrational impression I was suicidal or something.

Magnus laughed, that hoarse, cringe-provoking laugh I'd come to associate with myself in the last couple of days. "Are we feeling resentful of not thinking before we make little silly comments we may come to regret?" He teased, his eyebrows twitching, his mouth hitching up at the corners.

My face twisted up in a scowl I was certain was out of place on Magnus' face. Out of place like a parent having a temper tantrum in a supermarket. "You didn't tell me what I was getting myself into. I was just _humouring_ you." Magnus chuckled rather patronizingly, or as patronizingly as was possible in my voice. "No. It's entirely your fault for not reading the fine print. I laid it out for you perfectly clearly, it's not my fault you're only a few brain cells away from clinical retarded-ness."

I wrinkled my nose in confusion. "Retarded-ness? That's a word?"

Magnus snorted. "Point proven."

I shook my head, and stood up. "Magnus, I just have one question. What exactly-"

"- Do I use to get my hair so silky smooth? If I told you I'd have to kill you, Alec."

"No, listen! What exactly is it that you do all day? I mean, I've had-" I paused for a moment, struggling to find the right word, "- potential clients, I suppose, but am I actually allowed do stuff while you're not here?"

He tilted his head at me, a smirk dancing across his face. "What kind of stuff?" An eyebrow was raised cockily. "Oh, Alec. Of course. I mean, if you get overwhelmingly lonely and find that yourself and your hand are having a tad of a moment in the shower, by all means…"

I opened and shut my mouth a few times, not quite able to come up with a steady reply to that. "Magnus, that's not-, I didn't-," I spluttered on the spot for a moment, gaping at him before I regained a scrap of my former composure. I had grown somewhat used to Magnus and his little personal jokes. "Oh, just never mind, what I meant was, am I, I mean, _can_ I…use magic?"

The last word bordered on being forced out, and I felt the heat rise in my face. I felt like a kid asking their mom some sort of horrendously inappropriate question at a fancy dinner. Like magic was a taboo subject.

The silence hung there for a second while Magnus just looked at me thoughtfully through his eyelashes. It wasn't awkward – he was just contemplating. Finally he took a breath, steadied his gaze on me and answered.

"I can't say I haven't been expecting this question." The side of his lip jerked in either amusement or a grimace. "Well, basically I can't stop you. Literally. If you get really mad, or really freaking happy, something will probably just happen. I've tried to use magic since we switched, and it didn't work." He looked rather surly at this and I snickered. How long did it take him to get ready without being able to summon his moisturizer at the click of a finger?

"Anyway, like I said, little sparks may erupt in fits of passion, but please don't try anything big, any spells you come across in books, they'll be too big for you. It would be like Max trying to use a seraph blade the same size as him, you understand?" I did, and told him so. He paused again and ran a hand through his hair. "If you really want to, I suppose I could give you a few small exercises to try. Summoning forward pencils and the likes." He grinned at me, and the small sense of tension in the air was gone, and replaced with Magnus' trademark smirk. "Just to keep you amused. If you can handle them, outstanding. If you can't, then no harm done. Capiche?"


End file.
